


Temptation of the Ring

by AngelSlayer135



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Cheating, Dirty Talk, F/F, F/M, Ghost Sex, Greater Good mentality, Lesbian Sex, Orc sex, Other, Porn With Plot, Rape Roleplay, Rough Sex, Sex with Monsters, Tentacle Sex, The One Ring is a character, Tree Sex, Troll sex, Undead Sex, lack of empathy, sex without feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:42:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelSlayer135/pseuds/AngelSlayer135
Summary: “Bilbo,” he interrupted, causing the cook to stop short of his rambling, “There is a young girl in your house…”Blinking once or twice in confusion, the Halfling’s grin returned a moment later, “Oh… oh yes of course! I forgot you haven’t been around since she arrived, have you? Gandalf, this is my niece, Camellia. She is… precious to me.”
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Original Female Character(s), Arwen Undómiel/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. First Encounters

**Lord of the Rings Temptation of the Ring**

First Encounters

***I _wish_ I owned any small part of Lord of the Rings or the magical world it is a part of. But, I do not*** 

*Follow me on Twitter @Angelslayer135 for updates and progress 

**A/N:** This story began as “What if Frodo was a female?” which turned into “What if Frodo was a female and then constantly sexually assaulted by monsters?” this naturally became “What if ‘The Ring’ was a female and then constantly assaulted because everything ‘desired’ her.” This finally turned into “What if The Ring was a female but, being an extension of a Dark Lord, was sort of messed up and just liked fucking evil creatures?” Thus, we have this story. 

**Warnings:** Original female character (Although not self-insert or from the ‘real world’), rape roleplay, sex with monsters and other foul things, dirty talk, probably some murder, ‘greater good’ mentality for some of the main ‘good guys’. Character bashing, depending on how you look at it, of some of the main characters i.e. cheating. 

_***TotR***_

_Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,_

_Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,_

_Nine for Mortal Men, doomed to die,_

_One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne_

_In the land of Mordor where the Shadows lie._

_One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,_

_One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them._

_In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie._

-J.R.R. Tolkien 

_***TotR***_

Gandalf hummed a soft tune as his cart rumbled down the dirt road that made up so many of the passages in the Shire. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and a warm breeze came in from the west. 

Truly, it was a wonderful time to be alive, and he just happened to be on his way to celebrate the life of an old friend of his, one he had not seen in many years. 

As he came upon the door the wizard paused, a smile shining upon his face as he remembered the adventure they had shared once upon a time, of carving a small symbol upon this very door and whisking the halfling away across mountains and forests. But such memories should be shared, not kept to oneself, and the elderly being gave a hearty knock upon the door of Bag End. 

Inside he heard a shouted reply of being left alone, earning another smile from the wizard as he inquired about opening for a friend. Light footsteps followed and the fumbling of a door latch. When the gateway opened, he smiled down upon the Hobbit, whose face lit up in excitement and wonder in a way that was unique to his race. 

“Gandalf!” 

“Hello Bilbo, how have you been?” 

He was ushered into the small, at least for him, home and given a chair as his friend set about making tea and preparing various dishes and treats. “How are you? How have you been? Have you had any adventures lately? How long will you be staying? Would you like biscuits with your tea or…” 

As the Hobbit continued, Gandalf’s attention snapped to one of the back rooms, and more specifically the person wandering about it. 

“Bilbo,” he interrupted, causing the cook to stop short of his rambling, “There is a young girl in your house…” 

Blinking once or twice in confusion, the Halfling’s grin returned a moment later, “Oh… oh yes of course! I forgot you haven’t been around since she arrived, have you?” Waving her into the room and receiving a sigh of agitation in response she ducked in, “Gandalf, this is my niece, Camellia. She is… _precious_ to me.” 

The wizard’s eyes narrowed as he took in the girl, who was clearly _not_ a hobbit based upon her height. If he had to guess he would say she was a bit shorter than a human female of similar age. Fair skinned with dark hair she appeared relatively ordinary. 

“I was not aware you had a niece…” 

The nod of confirmation was far too hasty, and almost completely ignored by the older man, “Well, adopted of course. To a good Hobbit though, adoption is the same as blood.” 

He continued studying the girl, she was wearing clothing that had clearly been modified and tailored from what a Hobbit would wear, with it hugging curves a bit more scandalously than most of the Shire would see as proper. Otherwise she seemed like a normal girl, all save for her eyes, which were a golden hue gold in the light of the room. But all these facts quickly took secondary to the odd pull he began to feel towards her, as if something in his mind and body desired her for himself. Forcing himself upright, and shaking away the worrying feelings, he made a hasty apology about suddenly remembering an important errand and departed immediately. 

As he hurried down the dirt road, he forced himself _not_ to look back, not wanting to see the girl staring at him from the window, her eyes locked onto his form. He did not understand, and this worried him far more than it should. 

_***TotR***_

Camellia, sometimes referred to as ‘Cam’, ‘Lia’, ‘Elli’, or a dozen other nicknames depending on who was talking to her at the time, made her way through the trees in the opposite direction of the festivities. It wasn’t as if she _didn’t_ like parties, in fact she always enjoyed the concept. The problem was that Hobbit parties were usually incredibly dull, with those present spending their time ‘catching up’ with family, telling boring old stories, or playing with children. All things she actively sought to avoid. 

For a few minutes she _had_ considered sticking around for the fireworks, but doing so would have required dealing with all of the sad attempts at flirtation from the boys, not-so-subtle flirtation from the ‘men’, and the glares from the women. Perhaps if she didn’t stand out so much, literally, and figuratively, it would have been a bit more tolerable. 

Instead she sought out a stream nearby and deemed it the perfect opportunity to take a nighttime bath. Though they typically had a tub in their homes for such things the young woman enjoyed the thrill of going with the ‘taboo’ and doing it outside instead. She would have done so more often, but the last time she had, there had been little peace with the crowd of young hobbits, mostly men but some women, watching her with fascination. 

Discarding her clothes on the bank she slowly submerged into the cool water before submerging completely. 

_***TotR***_

Halbarad of the Dunedain halted in his journey as a sound reached his ears from nearby. He had been sent to contact a group of his fellow rangers and afterwards report back to the grey wizard with information on their numbers and resources available. Far off he could just make out the sound of laughter and merriment, but that was not what had halted him. 

No, it was the sound of something large in the water nearby, and a frown marred his face. Hobbits, those who occupied this area, were not known to bathe, nor swim, in the dark of night. Had a man of Bree ventured this far? Was it a bandit sneaking up on the unsuspecting, and peaceful, occupants? 

Something deep inside of his mind urged him forward. As he crept to a tree overlooking the creek a firework exploded high in the air, illuminating the surrounding area. It was at this same moment that his ‘prey’ emerged from the water. 

She practically leapt from the surface, water spraying as her wet hair was thrown backwards, and the man thanked every Valar he could think of for the moment of light, for she was clad in nothing but her skin and water. 

The Dunedain gasped but made to attempt to move or avert his gaze. How could he? The rangers of the north had taken an oath to defend the lands and its inhabitants, to ward off evil from the land that their ancestors had most sacredly protected and to honor the traditions long thought lost. 

They were not supposed to covet, were not supposed to lust after or crave those under their guard. This girl though? This woman? She was light in the dark tunnel of his life, a warm meal when he had nothing but cold, a silent compliment when he had thought of himself as nothing but unwanted, and like all those things he wanted her, _needed her_. 

Without noticing he stepped forward from his cover, beginning down the hill and praying for another source of light so that he may gaze upon her once more. A twig snapped beneath his feet, bringing the ranger’s attention back to the present and forcing him to realize just _what_ the situation was. 

A young girl bathing at night in a secluded river, then a cloaked man wandering up to her? She would be terrified of him, had every _right_ to be. He had spied on her, watched her nude form like an outlaw and was now approaching her? He could only hope she did not scare enough to become injured when she fled from… 

“Are you just going to stand there staring or join me?” 

Halbarad blinked, before noticing she had turned and was staring directly at him while still splashing water over her skin. 

“Well?” 

This was not a situation he had been trained for, he very much doubted that _anyone_ could have prepared him for what to do at this moment. “I uhm… saw you from the uh… trees…” he gave a vague gesture towards where he had emerged from, hoping he did not sound as pathetic as he knew he likely did. 

“Yes, I assumed so. As I said, are you getting into the water or not?” 

“I… you are so beautiful and I just… it may be bold of me to ask but, may I kiss you?” 

Camellia rolled her eyes, though the gesture was lost in the dark, “I did not invite you to join me to _kiss_.” 

Another explosion lit up the area, and this time Halbarad was close enough to take in her form. The wet hair plastered to her skin, the generous curve of her breasts, the shape of her butt and hips, and a smirk that nearly had him undone. 

The ranger slowly entered the water, almost hypnotized by her presence. When he had finally stepped within arms-length his hands went to her sides, “I…” but any further comment was silenced when one finger blocked his lips, while her other hand slipped into his pants with ease. 

Never had the man been touched in such a way, touched so _intimately_ before as when her fingers wrapped around his shaft. Even without her finger upon his mouth he would have been unable to do anything but gasp as she stroked him. 

“See? Isn’t this better than _kissing?”_ The girl laughed in a mocking way. He did not hear the change in her voice, however, with all his senses focused solely on her grip upon his cock. His hands upon her waist tightened, and for a moment his mind cleared enough to feel concern he might injure her. 

Instead, she withdrew her hand from his face, and taking his wrist moved him to her breast instead. 

“Squeeze up here hm?” he tried to reply, but it was drowned out with a firm stroke. “All that lovely talk and you are speechless once someone grabs your manhood?” 

Halbarad couldn't hear her taunts though, couldn't hear the light mockery in her voice or anything _else_ for that matter. All there was in his world was her soft skin around his dick, stroking forward and backwards, the plump flesh of her breasts underneath his own calloused fingers. 

“E-Elbereth...” he breathed out as his pleasure peaked, exploding into her grasp, and covering her fingers, palm, and wrist in his seed. His legs wobbled, attempting to steady himself, and therefore missing the annoyed frown on her face at his exclamation. 

“Not like _she_ did anything.” the girl muttered, retracting her hand, and washing the sticky substance off in the water. With that she turned and made towards the other side. 

Drying her skin for a moment, the woman seemed to ignore his continued stares as she pulled on her pants. It hadn’t been a _completely_ disappointing night, although the man had certainly treated her a bit too tender and lovingly than she would have preferred. 

Her shirt followed and after it slid on, she began her voyage back towards Bag End only to be halted by the man’s voice. 

“Halbarad” Turning back to him, she stared for a moment, barely noticeable save for by the light of the moon. “My name… it is Halbarad.” 

“I see” 

The Dunedain shifted a bit uncomfortably, unsure as to how exactly to ask his question without making assumptions and yet... “May I know the name of the beautiful woman I have spent such an evening with?” 

This time she didn’t bother hiding her sigh. It had only been a few moments and the young woman could already tell he was going to be one of those ‘hopeless romantics’ like so many of the Hobbits were. It was something she actively avoided, and one of the primary reasons she was never interested sexually in the smaller race. 

She got enough of their poetry and love notes as it was. 

“If you must know, Camellia.” 

He repeated the name, as if tasting it on his lips, “Are you passing through here on the way to your home? I would be happy to escort you back to…” 

“Hobbiton, where I live. I can find my own way.” This she did continue into the darkness, leaving the man staring after her form as it swayed in the night. 

_***TotR***_

“Why do I have the strangest feeling you were planning on disappearing after tonight.” There was a hint of accusation in the tone, which elicited a sigh from the owner of Bag End. 

He continued shuffling through his belongings, however, refusing to meet the man’s gaze, “Perhaps because I _was_. I’m feeling old Gandalf, far older than I look. I’m ready for a vacation, one I do not intend to return from.” 

The wizard nodded in understanding. His friend was far older than most Hobbits ever expected to be, and he had seen a great deal in those years. That, and there was something nagging in the corner of his mind, something that had bothered him concerning the Halflings appearance and age. No normal mortal, save for the Dunedain, could age so well. 

“You will leave everything to… your niece then?” 

This _did_ cause Bilbo to pause, as if considering facts that he had not seen before. “No… no she will come with me of course. She has always wanted to adventure and explore, what better opportunity then now?” 

Concern heightened in the elder’s mind, clearly his friend wasn’t thinking straight. “Bilbo, though a Hobbit may find it easy to disappear she would not. The Shire is a safe place but outside the world is not as kind as you may remember it being and traveling with a company of dwarves is far safer than traveling by yourself or one other.” 

“I… I can protect her though; I know that I can. We will find somewhere safe, somewhere that no one else knows about. I will keep her safe there.” 

“That does not sound like she would be happy there Bilbo, if you truly desire to travel then it would be safer to leave her here, with Bag End.” 

Something ugly flashes in the halfling’s eyes at that comment, “You just want her for yourself, don’t you!? I see the way you look at her, she is _mine_ not _yours_ , and if you think you can just…” 

“BILBO BAGGINS!” The Istari roared, the room darkening as he seemed to tower, even more than normal, above the Hobbit who had quickly shrunk back in fear. “Do not take me for a mere conjurer of tricks! I am not here to take _anyone_ …” The darkness faded as the man breathed out a sigh of relief, “I am trying to _help_ you.” 

“G-Gandalf… oh Gandalf I’m so sorry.” The smaller moved forward into the open arms of the taller, who rubbed his hair soothingly. “You are correct, of course. Any time you can watch over her I will be grateful for. She is the only one I am close to.” 

_***TotR***_

It was an hour or so later when the man’s niece finally returned home that night. Walking in from the door, and spotting the wizard seated at a nearby table, pipe emitting a slight glow as smoke curled up and around his face, she let out a sigh before closing the wooden barrier behind her. “I suppose that means he’s finally left?” 

Gandalf, a faraway look in his eyes, merely nodded without so much as turning in her direction. 

“Pity” 

The tone of her voice was one of disinterest and boredom as she walked back towards her room, almost making it through the kitchen before the man called out to her. “He left you a letter.” The statement barely slowed down her passage, “You don’t seem that upset, finding out the man who cared for you left without saying ‘goodbye’.” 

Camellia shrugged, “Despite what he insisted I never really saw him as an uncle, or even family.” 

“You still stayed with him.” 

This, finally caused her to pause and turn, now seeing ancient eyes focused solely on her, “Because he begged me to. If I had left like I wanted so many years, _decades_ , ago he would have just gone chasing after me. I don’t find the idea of exploring the world very fun with someone constantly chasing after you.” 

Lowering his hand, and the pipe it held, the wizard peered deep into her golden eyes, “I have journeyed far in this world. Seen many places and many peoples. I doubt you will find any as peaceful as the Shire, and you will never find any as loving as family.” 

“If you are so envious then why not settle down yourself? Surely you have found those who would take you in and treat you as such.” 

He shook his head, “My path lies elsewhere. I have responsibilities to others that do not permit me to simply do as I would like.” 

The girl gave a light snort, “Mine does as well. Now I can leave without concern.” She continued reaching her room and closing the door behind, leaving the man to his silent thoughts and the chirping of crickets. 

_***TotR***_

Dark and twisting the shadows surrounded her, swirling about, tempting and teasing. From a bodiless form a voice rumbled, _“Wait”_ It commanded, _“They shall come, nine servants. Wait for them and grow strong. Once they come you may venture and explore. This world is mine, a gift to you and for you. Do as I command, and all shall be placed at your feet. All for your pleasure.”_

The voice was lulling and beautiful. And Camellia felt herself drawn towards it. She didn’t _want_ to wait, didn’t _want_ to stay in the Shire any longer than need be. It was boring, painfully so, and its inhabitants were the best example of that. 

Instead she wanted to visit those places she had heard in the stories seldom told, even around a warm fire. The places with dark and mysterious things, with monsters and other fell creatures lurking within. These thoughts excited her, and when she awoke the next morning there was a dampness between her bare thighs. 

_***TotR***_

Bag End was remarkably quiet when the young woman finally ventured from her room. There was no kettle of tea still resting on the fire for her to enjoy, no breakfast being prepared, no humming from another occupant. It was peaceful and save for the sounds of nature outside the windows, silent. 

She hated it. 

It wasn’t as though she had enjoyed Bilbo’s presence, but rather just having _someone_ to talk to and be around. The Shire was a peaceful and quiet location, it was soft, warm, comforting, and gentle. All things she had grown to despise and be utterly bored by. 

There was no adventure, no feeling of excitement or danger in the air. The roads did not have sharp rocks or potholes, the animals were not dangerous or predatorial, and the inhabitants were simply dull. 

Making herself a small breakfast, the girl sat by the window and pondered what she would do next. Originally, she had intended on leaving the area as soon as Bilbo either took a vacation or died, but then the dream she had… 

No one had ever commanded her in such a way before, Hobbits being a kind and shy race, and the memory of it still lit her blood aflame. Although taking orders was not something Camellia had ever been keen about, there was still something about the dominance in her memory that made her shiver. 

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stick around until these so called ‘servants’ revealed themselves? Still though, it would be a painfully _boring_ wait, especially if it did not take place soon. 

Deciding to take a walk to get a better perspective, Camellia paused as she opened the front door to Bag End. A letter was nailed to the door, reminding her of the one she still needed to read that had been left behind as well. 

Picking up the new one she glanced about but saw nothing out of the ordinary and returned to the kitchen table to sit, a bit hunched over as always. 

“Another thing to hate about the Shire…” She muttered in annoyance, before tearing open the first. It was, as the young woman thought, a letter from her ‘uncle’ pouring his heart out in the usual manner that Hobbits did. He talked about how much he would miss her and how she had been the ‘light in his life’. In the end he had left her everything remaining, including Bag End, and was off on one last vacation. 

As for the second, the one she had picked up outside, it was a hastily written letter from the man she had been with the previous evening. Certainly not as eloquent and wordy as a Hobbit would have done, but sentimental and ridiculous, nonetheless. 

_***TotR***_

“We are asking for one among you to step forward for a special task.” Aragorn announced to the small gathering of his fellow northern rangers. Next to him stood the aged wizard they had come to know and respect as well. “There is an individual located in the Shire that may be of great importance, both to us and the enemy. We need one to stay in the area and watch over them, without arousing suspicion.” 

Halbarad knew, in an instant, who they spoke of. Who else could it be? Thus, he stepped forward immediately, “I will do it. I believe I already have encountered her.” 

This earned a raised eyebrow from his captain, and friend. “I wasn’t aware you were assigned to the Hobbiton area.” 

The other shook his head, “I’m not, but while on assignment for Gandalf, days ago, I encountered a girl in the forest. I offered to escort her back home.” Sure, he had left out a few things, but those were _his_ personal business, not anyone else. Still, the piercing stares by both older men seemed to imply they knew he had done more than what he claimed. 

Still, they accepted, informing him that he needed to keep track of her movements and ensure she didn’t leave the area, especially unescorted. Gandalf did not think she would but there was still a chance she might change her mind. The ranger had no problem with this assignment and was hoping that he might find an excuse to get much closer to the girl. 

He had yet to ease the ache for her. 

_***TotR***_

Whether the object of the ranger’s obsession ever noticed his presence was unknown to the man, but what she could never ignore were the poems and letters that would appear written to her. At first it they were on her doorstep, as if delivered by courier. These she took inside, glanced over, and then discarded. 

When the air began to chill the notes would be found inside of the house, usually on the dining table after she would leave for an errand. Anyone else might have been concerned, terrified even, but Camellia had long since grown past worry regarding such trivial events. Years prior her uncle had terminated their gardener after discovering his own attempts at ‘courtship’ being hidden throughout the garden and even slipped in through the window. 

Thus, the woman was no stranger to those obsessed with her. 

The tolerance ended, however, when the first snow fell, and she found an envelope on her pillow. It wasn’t the fact someone continuously entered her home while she was away that agitated her, but rather the fact that they seemed to think they were entitled to go anywhere they chose. To invade her privacy, and do as they will with her possessions, that finally ended her amusement with the situation. 

That some man seemed to think of himself as her lover, or _owner,_ infuriated her to no end. 

Any notes that now appeared were given to the flames that cooked her meals, and her bedroom door remained locked both when she was away and when she was asleep. Once upon a time she might have entertained the fantasy of the individual slipping into the structure, creeping up on her and forcing himself onto her. In fact she had spent more than a few nights consumed in such thoughts, her naked body writhing on top of sheets as her fingers pumped in and out of the soaked entrance between her thighs, but he had lost any right to attempt such a thing with the obsessive actions he had taken and the words he wrote. 

They were not ‘in love’ as he had so declared. 

They were not ‘to be wed’ as he promised. 

They were not ‘destined to be together’ as he believed. 

If the man _did_ decide to show his face and make such proclamations, she would show him just how _little_ she thought of his beliefs. 

_***TotR***_

The Dunedain frowned as he watched a pair of hobbits eagerly speaking with _his_ beloved. True, they had only been together for one night, but ever since then he _knew_ in his heart that she was the only one for him. 

And he, the only one for her. 

All she had to do was open her eyes and see the truth. Unfortunately, she was surrounded by those who sought her attention and yet did not deserve it. He had been forbidden from directly interacting with her by both Aragorn and Gandalf, though this command tested his will each day that he watched her from afar. 

Surely, he could better protect her by speaking with her, accompanying her on walks, living in the same room, and even lying beside her at night. 

For now, he would remain as her shadow, courting her with declarations of his love and protecting her from any unseen threats. One day he would reveal himself and they would be together. One day she would see the truth. 

_***TotR***_

Years passed of living in an empty house, following a dull routine, and burning love notes, until one day Camellia found an old man sitting in her kitchen, unannounced. His wizened old eyes taking her in with suspicion and concern. 

“Camellia, we need to talk.” 

_***TotR***_

**A/N:** I will be changing up the composition of ‘The Fellowship’ and would like to know if anyone has any requests or suggestions for membership. I already have some ideas but could always use some more. 

This story probably won’t be updated very regularly, it is more of a fun side project than anything else. More than once a year for certain, but I have a lot else going on right now, including writing other stories. 


	2. Into the Forest

**Lord of the Rings Temptation of the Ring**

Into the Forest

***I _wish_ I owned any small part of Lord of the Rings or the magical world it is a part of. But, I do not*** 

*Follow me on Twitter @Angelslayer135 for updates and progress 

_***TotR***_

“I’m surprised you returned, I figured I wouldn’t see you again.” 

The Istari frowned a bit, “I had business elsewhere in the world, it has finally brought me back full circle.” 

“Oh?” She had gone about making coffee, barely paying any heed to the man. 

“I have learned of some troubling news and had Bilbo still remained in the Shire I would have needed to speak with him.” 

Sitting down at the window and enjoying the fresh air that came in on the morning breeze, Camellia sipped at her drink, not so much as offering a cup to the man seated nearby. “If it had to deal with him then I suggest you look elsewhere. As you can see, he has not returned since departing.” 

Standing, the man went to fetch his own glass and fill it with the hot liquid, “It did… and did not. You see Bilbo had obtained something of incredible significance on an adventure many decades ago, though he likely did not realize how special it was at the time.” 

“The one he went on with you? The quest to the Lonely Mountain with the company of dwarves? Getting lost in a cave deep in the mountains, stumbling upon a mysterious creature named ‘Gollum’ and finding a magical ring?” 

Gandalf blinked in surprise, before chuckling softly as he sat back down into the chair, “I suppose you have heard the tale a few times hm?” 

“More than a few,” she corrected easily. “At _least_ once a year since as long as I can remember. I always assumed it was nonsense though.” 

“Oh? You thought he was lying to you?” 

Again, she shrugged as her eyes, and attention went to the outside world, “A magic ring that turned him invisible that he conveniently misplaced? Stories of an epic battle he had no proof of save for being a wealthy hobbit? I have heard too many things before from too many who just wanted to prove themselves to others.” 

He eyed her form, connecting the dots between what she had said and other beliefs he had about her. “Well, unlike others I can assure you this was no mere fabrication. But the ring he found was… _is_ far more important than he knows. It is sought after by dark and terrible forces, and it must be taken to safety.” 

“Oh?” 

The wizard nodded, “If he truly lost it years ago then there would have been nothing to fear. Unfortunately, the creature known as Gollum was discovered by the enemy and tortured. Through this he uttered two words, ‘Baggins, Shire’.” 

“Then it is a good thing Bilbo Baggins has left the Shire hm? If he is truly in danger shouldn’t you be seeking to protect him rather than sitting around drinking coffee?” 

The lip of the cup hid his smile at her wit. “Perhaps, but the darkness is still a world away. Since he has already reached safety, I thought it important to ensure _you_ were warned as well. If Bilbo officially adopted you, as he claimed, you could be a target as well.” 

It was a bit concerning for the man that even this failed to elicit any sort of strong reaction from the only other individual in the house. He wasn’t sure if it was because it merely helped to confirm a darkness in her, or because she was unconcerned for her own safety. 

“So, what do you suggest then?” Again, her voice was far away, her mind in other places it seemed. 

This had him reviewing what he had thought about during his journey to the Shire, what he had pondered over and over again until reaching an answer that would suffice. “You must leave the Shire. It is far too dangerous for you to stay at Bag End. Sell everything that you can and make your way to Bree. I will meet you there once I have warned our allies and sent out the call for additional aid.” 

The last part had finally redirected her gaze, and she looked back into his eyes, as if peering into his very soul. For a moment he believed his tongue had been a bit too loose, but after another moment she nodded and returned her attention to the view. 

_***TotR***_

That night Camellia dreamt of faraway places. Of beautiful lakes surrounded by mountains, a tower of fire, and an endless army bowing to _her_. She dreamt of distant lands full of monsters and exotic creatures. She dreamt of fire, ruin, death, destruction, lust, and submission. Finally, she dreamt of nine hooded figures riding. 

“ _They come for you, but you need not wait for them. Take your pleasure from this world and its occupants. Claim all you desire. You are part of me, and I am Lord of these lands and all who reside in it. Thus, you are Lord over them.”_

When she awoke the next morning, the fires had stirred inside of her once more, to journey and take what she wanted from who and _what_ she wanted. 

_***TotR***_

It had only taken her a week, and even then, there had been a desire to simply leave without caring about what happened to where she had lived for so many years, but eventually all of Bag End had been sold, along with the various objects contained within. 

Some had been rather upset by this, including some distant family that hadn’t lived in the area for very long. In the end she had walked away with a good amount of money, not that she had much to spend it on, a few sets of clothing, and some traveling equipment. 

_Bree_

It was her destination, according to the wizard, however she had been planning on stopping there upon her inevitable departure of the Shire regardless of what the man had recommended. Hobbits had never held much interest in her eyes, but the race of men? Their morals were far more tenuous, their eyes and bodies far more lust filled than the chaste focused halflings, and they were far larger and more sturdy than the smaller forms of the shorter folk. 

All in all, far more interesting. Besides, who said she couldn’t take a few detours on the way there? 

_***TotR***_

“Where are you going?” 

Turning, the woman faced a man she had not seen in many years, though she did not recall his face. To him, however, she was just as lovely as she had been while illuminated by the moon and fireworks. 

“Somewhere else.” 

Halbarad frowned, “It isn’t safe for you to be leaving the Shire.” 

The shrug she returned caused his expression to deepen, did she truly not care about her own safety? “I was told that the Shire isn’t safe either, hence why I am leaving.” With that she began down the path, not slowing to wait for him. 

He shifted his weight for a moment, considering his options and what it would mean to ignore the plots of the wizard, before hurrying after her. “Then stay with me, I can keep you safe and…” 

“Why would I choose to stay with a stranger?” 

The Dunedain was taken aback and stalled for a moment, “Stranger? What do you mean? I… we are in love. My letters and poems they…” 

Her interruption was quick and toneless, “Kept the fire of my stove burning quite nicely yes. I do not appreciate being told what I feel or having strangers sneak into my home.” 

Fear flashed before the man’s eyes, fear of being left and never seeing her again, and it was this fear that had him grabbing her arm to halt her, “But I am no stranger! We made love in the river all those many years ago! We should be wed, not separated!” 

Eyes hardening, her hand gripped his forearm with a crushing strength that shocked the man into gasping in pain. “You do not touch me unless I permit it.” Camellia’s voice had become laced with ice as she gave one more hard squeeze, earning the cracking of bones, before releasing him. 

Once more Halbarad was prepared to chase after her but was suddenly aware of stares from nearby villagers. Hushed whispers began next, and the ranger turned and fled into the wilderness, preparing for a different approach to the situation. 

_***TotR***_

There were figures moving through the trees nearby, and Camellia frowned as she caught a better glimpse of one. 

Elves 

Despite every other member of the Shire, including her ‘uncle’ the woman held no love for the immortal race, if anything she actively avoided and hated them. With a sigh she returned her attention to the small fire nearby and her meal cooking above it. Hopefully, the intruders would continue their voyage and leave her… 

“Well hello there.” 

Apparently _not_ and this time she didn’t bother to hide her annoyed sigh. 

“My name is Gildor, I am on a journey with my people, a sort of pilgrimage if you will, and I noticed you sitting by yourself. Do you not have any companions?” 

“No, I find myself enjoying my own company rather than suffering through others.” There was a not-so-subtle hint in her statement, a ‘leave me alone’ barely concealed in her tone. 

The elven man did not notice, or perhaps did not care. “Nonsense, one should never eat alone, especially when they are as lovely as yourself.” 

Ah, so that was the reason, when she decided to pay attention it did seem as though the man had the same fascination with her that she had seen in so many others. 

How irritating. 

Sure enough, several of the man’s companions entered the small clearing as well, laughing and speaking merrily in their disgusting language. This was yet another reason she despised the elves. Though the dwarves may have been protective of their language they did not speak it before others. 

Camellia could respect that, a shared culture and secret that united them. Elves, on the other hand, spoke freely without knowing, or caring, whether those nearby could understand. To make it even worse, they were always so damn arrogant about it, as if lording their culture as better than everyone else just by existing. 

“In case you were wondering,” the woman growled as she stood, earning confusion from the elves, “ _this_ is why so many hate your race.” With that she departed into the darkness, ignoring the calls for her to return. 

_***TotR***_

Halbarad of the Dunedain was worried. After retreating from the concerned stares of the other halflings he had returned to one of the nearby outposts to potentially enlist some aid or procure a safer location for them. Instead he immediately heard rumors of black riders breaking through into the Shire. 

In his heart he could _feel_ that it was his darling they were after, and without another moment’s hesitation he struck out to locate her and bring her to safety, through any means necessary, but ended up further behind her trail than he anticipated. 

Through the wilderness he pursued her, until reaching the border of the Old Forest. Here was something that even the rangers had learned to be cautious of, for despite their skills in survival even they could become lost in such a cursed place. If she truly had entered, and from his tracking skills it appeared she had, it would be far more difficult for him, or anyone else, to locate the woman. 

It was then, as he pondered how to proceed, that a horrifying scream filled the air. Eyes widening, the man turned to look down the path he had come from, only to find several shadowy figures upon fell horses blocking the road. He knew not what they were, though he had suspicions, and felt his death looming from their hands. 

Halbarad leapt into the forest, his feet carrying him deep and deeper between the twisted trees and dark shapes, the sound of hooves ever present, harrying him further and further. 

Four times the sound would grow distant, and the Dunedain would pause to catch his breath, using a tree for shelter. Four times then would he spot their form from the corner of his eye, as if watching him from afar. Four times then would the chase begin anew, until he could run no longer. 

Taking a risk, the ranger took a rock from the ground and threw it hard in an opposing direction, and moments later was rewarded as the sound of galloping faded off. 

Finally releasing the breath that he held, Halbarad leaned back against the tree and let out a soft chuckle. He had survived, now he only needed to catch up with his beloved and… 

Turning, the man froze in horror. A dark rider sat atop a horse, mere feet from him, silently looking down from it’s perch. How had he not noticed it before? Had his trick not worked, or had the creatures seen through it and readied a trick of its own? 

He could not escape, not without somewhere impossible to pass for the steed, which meant only one course of action. His hands sprang towards the sword on his back, intending to slay the mount and retreat while the rider recovered from the fall. 

Instead, it was the cloaked one whose steel flashed first, and the Dunedain fell to his knees, before his head rolled to the ground a moment later. 

Eight more riders slowly paced back into the area, completely encircling the body. They were their master’s will made manifest, servants of the true Lord of Middle Earth. This insignificant mortal had dared to impose their will upon their master, to deem himself _lord_ over her. 

She did not need to give the order, did not need to directly issue them any command, they were hers just as they were Sauron’s. Her shield, her blade, her voice, her wings, and her will. 

_***TotR***_

A fog settled on the ground, obscuring the very dirt upon which she walked. The trees encroached from every side, the forest becoming denser as she continued on her path. Dark and tangled, like the tree roots that seemed to trip any unlucky hobbit that might be journeying through. 

Like all occupants of the Shire she had heard the stories revolving around this place, of the strange things that would occur. Travelers becoming lost for days on end, rumors of enchantments and fell noises… 

All things she was exceedingly interested in investigating. The promise had been made, that all things would be hers and after spending _years_ in Hobbiton she was ready to explore the darker places of the world. 

“I wonder if there are any dangerous creatures nearby…” she muttered aloud, hoping to maybe draw some attention if her statement ended up being correct. The woman knew it wouldn’t be, there were no stories of remains being found and although some unlucky folk did not return it was a rare occasion, not something that would be occurring if dangerous beasts truly did roam the woods. 

_***TotR***_

Wind howled about the elderly man as he sat atop of the stone tower, looking down hopelessly at the burning fires and movement of soldiers. How had the greatest of their order, those personally chosen by the Valar to guide Middle Earth towards freedom, fallen so far into darkness? 

Saruman the White had betrayed them and had given his allegiance to the Dark Lord, or perhaps was seeking to place himself on a throne instead. Now a new power was growing in Middle Earth, one that would shake the world of men and elf to its core. 

He was only glad that the truth had been finally revealed to both Elrond and himself in time for them to warn Camellia. It had taken too long for Bilbo’s secrets to be spoken, and had they been delayed even further it might have led to catastrophe. 

Despite his efforts to stay focused the Istari’s mind wandered back to that day in Rivendell, with the sun shining on his friend as he sat writing his book. 

“ _Bilbo, Lord Elrond and I were hoping to speak with you for a moment.”_

_The halfling looked up, and quickly nodded before setting aside his work to stand in respect, only to earn a smile and gentle wave from the elf. “Please sit, this is a house of rest and relaxation, not titles and formalities.” Upon the youngest individual’s return to the bench he had chosen in the open air the other two took their own spots on a pew opposing him. “I have heard quite a bit about your niece…”_

_At the spoken word Bilbo seemed to brighten, “Camellia, she’s a very wonderful girl.”_

_He missed the silent conversation the other two men had before it was Gandalf who spoke up again, “As we have heard. Tell me though, have you ever noticed anything… unusual about her?”_

_A frown marred the shorter male’s face. “What do you mean, unusual?”_

“ _Well, she is looks very young for how old you say she is and that she simply appeared in your home one day. Are there any other oddities that she has shown? We are hoping to determine a bit more about her origins, I am sure it will make quite the tale.”_

_Though it was not a lie Gandalf did not care much for the manipulation they were using on the trusting man. Hobbits were naturally courteous and had been taken advantage of more than once because of it. The fact they were doing so now, despite the reasoning behind it, still did not sit well in his stomach._

“ _Oh, yes of course. Well as you saw she does not seem to age, nor has she even been ill from food or weather. She heals fast as well. I remember once when she cut her finger upon a knife and before I had returned with cloth to wrap it the wound was gone. My darling niece is strong as well, I have seen her lift far heavier objects than anyone her size should be capable of._

_Elrond nodded as the hobbit spoke, making a mental list of what was being said. It was all beginning to add up to a fear that had been growing inside of him since originally hearing the stories. He had hoped it would prove false, but it seemed as though their luck had run out._

“ _Thank you, Bilbo, we shall take this information and use it wisely.”_

_The two elders stood and departed, with the elf suggesting that the woman be brought to Rivendell as quickly as possible, to confirm their suspicions._

Now, sitting atop Orthanc, Gandalf lamented not heeding the wise council of Elrond. He should have escorted her back himself rather than making plans and then seeking the wisdom of Saruman. Were their plans for naught? What if the Nazgul reached her before she could find safety in Imladris? 

No, hope had to be maintained. Aragorn had been told of her departure and would be ready to meet her, the letter would be delivered giving her further instructions, and he would find a way to escape this dreadful place. 

_***TotR***_

The woman paused in her travels, glancing around taking a big breath, noting the oddness in the air. This is what she had been looking for while traveling through these woods, a place of darkness and anger, a place where the old world still existed and conflicted with the new. 

Walking to the nearby riverbank she knelt and took a small handful of water before sipping it. Yes, this is clearly what she had heard about from the whispered tales on those rare nights she could tolerate spending time with halflings. There was strangeness, corruption, and something else she couldn't quite describe. 

Feeling a bit at ease, Camellia leaned back onto the ground near the river, eyes feeling a bit heavy as she allowed a light sleep to come over her. 

She awoke some time later, not because she was well rested, but a feeling of something wrapping around her wrists and ankles. Glancing about, the woman saw that it appeared to be branches and roots that had wound around her, constricting her movements… or so it thought. Despite this she knew her own strength and could feel that although this might have been a threat to a halfling, or even a lesser man, she could easily free herself. 

But she had no desire to do so, at least not yet. Perhaps this was what had claimed so many adventurers and lost souls. Either way it was intriguing, and the thrill of being bound sent excitement spiking in her blood. 

More emerged, and continued wrapping around her arms and legs. Then, they began to pull, her legs spreading by the will of whatever it was that controlled these vines. Two more ripped from the ground, but rather than seek to bind her they went for her wrappings themselves, sliding towards her top before slipping underneath between clothing and bare skin. 

Before she could question their intent it became obvious as they ripped her clothing apart, exposing her breasts, stomach, and moistening sex to the forest air. 

Had this been the fate of other adventurers? Camellia didn't think it so bad, especially when she noticed a larger tendril emerging from the ground between her legs. 

“I do so hope that is going where...” 

Another root snapped forward into her mouth, silencing her as she felt the thicker find it's destination between her legs, plunging into her lower lips in one go and causing her eyes to roll back into her head. Her muffled moan was barely audible as the wooden tentacle bottomed out, then slid back and pushed further in once more, the sound a sex quickly filling the air. 

The two that had split her coverings found a new purpose by wrapping around her tits, the ends teasing her hardened nipples. 

Further and further into the debauchery she fell, vaguely aware of another object searching for entrance into her ass, finding it, and pushing in with little resistance. She was being ravaged, fucked on the riverbed in every way imaginable and exposed should to any passerby who may be this deep in the forest. 

A reward, perhaps, for those who were brave enough to make it this far. 

Sure enough, when she was able to push through the pleasure and open her eyes, Camellia managed to catch sight of several figures across the river. 

The sex was making it too difficult to count how many there were, not that it was important, but at least half a dozen cloaked figures atop horses sat, faces completely shrouded, staring at her. There was no indication of judgment, no scowls or mocking cries or ridicule, nor did there seem to be any lust emanating from them. 

They did not squirm, did not fidget or stroke themselves. Merely sat on their steeds. 

Watching 

A groan managed to escape around the object pushing into her throat. Were they aroused by her? Did they enjoy the sight of her body being raped and abused? Would they leave for their homes and pleasure themselves at the memory, or wait until the creature was done and take their own turns? 

Both ideas had her quivering, and a moment later her body convulsed in a shuddering orgasm. The 'assault' on her body continued for another hour or two, and many more orgasms, until the tree seemed to grow tired and merely retraced its roots back into the ground. 

She had been satiated, it was done with it's task, no more needed to be said. The woman did, however, frown a bit at her tattered clothing. True, she would much prefer to just be nude all the time, and the idea sent another flush of heat through her body, but it made getting anything done around others so much more difficult and problematic. 

Not to mention the annoying jeers and whispers that were sent her way even when she _was_ dressed. Someone needed to burn the Shire down and rid the world of their irritating hypocrisies and dull personalities. 

Picking up her small traveling bag, and clothing herself in a knee-length dress, with nothing underneath, the woman glanced once more across the river, hoping that her mysterious voyeurs might still be around. 

Alas, they had vanished without a trace or sound, though something in her mind seemed to whisper that they were still nearby, if needed. 

“Another time.” she promised the open air, before walking along the river in the direction opposing the setting sun. 

_***TotR***_

As Camellia continued, and left the forest behind, her heart lightened, and a feeling of satisfaction filled her. This is what she had been missing for her life, excitement, sexuality, and danger. True, her scrapes and bruises were already gone but the memory of them remained, of being ravaged and used while using the creature for her own enjoyment in return. Now she needed to continue with her journey, to find what else the world had to offer. 

Climbing the grassy hill, the woman looked out over the scene before her, seeing several more hills in the distance with a dense fog descending upon them as twilight filled the sky. It would be dark soon, and she was in, yet another, place seldom spoken by the hobbits. 

The Barrow Downs 

_***TotR***_

Suggestions are still welcome for alternative members of the future Fellowship if anyone has ideas. 


	3. Touch of the Dead, Touch of the Living

**Lord of the Rings Temptation of the Ring**

Touch of the Dead, Touch of the Living

***I _wish_ I owned any small part of Lord of the Rings or the magical world it is a part of. But, I do not*** 

*Follow me on Twitter @Angelslayer135 for updates and progress 

_***TotR***_

It was often whispered, among the inhabitants of the Shire, that the Barrow Downs should be avoided at all costs and perils. Those cursed hills held secrets and dangers that would haunt the mind even should an adventurous halfling brave the dense fog. 

Should that happen, and a Hobbit choose to make the journey, it was warned that such travel should never be undergone without the rising sun. Directions were difficult to maintain, and it was not unheard of for travelers to become lost even while keeping to the edge of the terrible place. 

Camellia was currently walking straight through, or at least as best she could figure, in the dead of night. In some sense she could understand, even if disagreeing, with the thoughts of the smaller race. To a Hobbit, a trip down a paved road would be their outing for the day, and a journey to a nearby town, even if it was within sight of their doorstep, would be enough excitement for an entire season. They dreaded the dark, and kept their homes as warmly lit as possible with hearth, lantern, and candle. 

To be out at night, so far from home, would be unheard of save for the grandest of social gatherings. For one to be in the situation as she is now, alone in the wilderness at night without a star to guide them, would be enough for an adult to find somewhere to crawl and weep. 

For her it was none of these things. The unknown, danger potentially around every corner, uncertainty with every step... it was enough to send prickles of excitement across her skin and through her veins. 

As her journey continued the cold air crept in closer and closer, encircling her as if it had a life of its own. Through the mist she could feel brief sensations, almost as if fingertips would brush against her skin, coaxing her in one direction or guiding in another. Those that strayed across her bare legs were the most enticing, almost lingering for moments before dissipating into the dark mists swirling about. 

It was tempting, _teasing_ almost and by the time she reached what she could only imagine was her new destination her heart was pounding, her eyes dilated, and lower lips slick with arousal. Before her was an entrance carved of stone and leading into one of hills, the door that formerly barricaded it having been torn asunder and left as mere rubble across the ground. 

The touching now became whispers, dark promises of wealth and power should she continue inside. For any person of sound mind this would have sent them fleeing in the opposing direction, a terror lingering in the very stone present and obvious. 

Yet for one such as her it was intriguing, and provocative. Thus she journeyed out of the fog and into a tomb. 

_***TotR***_

Though she had expected it to be pitch black, the torches lining the walls burned with an eerie light, casting unnatural shadows across every surface. When Camellia reached the inner chamber she took notice of the large stone altars in the center. 

Movement from one wall caught her attention, and turning she spotted the one that had likely led her inside, a Barrow-wight. Glowing eyes stared back at her as the pale flesh, nearly skeletal in appearance, hid beneath a dark and frayed shroud. 

“I do have business elsewhere,” She announced, a bit annoyed if this creature had brought her into such a place for no other reason but to flaunt a stone room. 

The arm rose, and gestured towards the altar behind her. Quirking an eyebrow and decidedly intrigued, the woman hopped back onto the surface. A moment later and the spirit moved forward, from a nearby chest pulling jewelry, fine silken cloth, and gold. 

When it came to golden chains, however, the wight paused, seemingly unsure as to whether it should proceed with its normal ritual. Without waiting, its captive took one end and looped it around her wrist. “I didn't come here to be given a taste and nothing else. I am not a princess, do not treat me like one.” 

As she ordered so did it follow, and her limbs were secured while the freezing touch danced across her skin, causing her to ache for more. It circled her bound form, continuously exploring the warmth of her skin as it made its preparations. When it was finally time it took a spot at her feet, and she looked down in curiosity. “Well? Gold and gems are lovely to look at but I prefer something more real.” 

It's mouth, spectral and foul, descended upon her exposed sex, tongue lapping as if in desperation. 

“Finally” she breathed out in relief, the cold, slimy, object tracing her folders and occasionally sliding into her as it explored what she could only imagine was the first sexual contact the creature had experienced in centuries, if not longer. Hands traveled up her legs, pausing on her thighs. 

Her hips rolled, pleasure causing her to bite down on her lips, her eyelids to flutter briefly. The hands continued their ascent, and reached the junction of her legs, spreading her further open as a finger slid inside. 

Despite the difference in temperature, or perhaps because of it, she tightened, calling out in bliss as her body trembled moments later. Glancing downwards, she felt a bit of disappointment as the creature pulled back, obviously lacking any sort of endowments that might be used to further sate her lust. It moved to unbind her, having fulfilled its duty. 

Despite the slight emptiness she still felt the gnawing hunger had been tamed for the time being, and she drew her traveling cloak from the ground around the robes, jewels, and other wealth it had adorned her in. It had been an interesting experience, regardless of the outcome, and without so much as a look back she departed the chambers. 

Once outside the fog now began to lift, stars beginning to give enough light that she was able to see into the darkness and locate her path once more. 

She was closer now, and estimated she would reach Bree by the next evening. 

_***TotR***_

Elrond stood on a balcony overlooking his realm. Evil was approaching, from all directions it seemed. Sauron had returned and was continuing to grow stronger, the Nine had been dispatched towards the Shire, and evidence was beginning to point towards a truth more terrible than he originally feared. 

Middle Earth was dying, slowly but surely. The Elves were being forced back, their realms and power diminishing as the other races grew. Unfortunately, they were not, and possibly could not be, united. The Dwarves hid in their ancient halls, wary of lending strength due to their history with not only his own race but of losing their lands as they had so in the past. 

Finally, the race of Men were shattered, spread across the world in kingdoms of both the light and darkness. Even if Aragorn could reclaim the throne, and there were parts of him that doubted such a thing would ever happen, it might be too late for such a thing to matter. 

They needed to leave, he needed to convince his people, his family, to depart these cursed lands for those of the undying west and the peace that awaited them. The problem remained with his daughter. Arwen would not abandon Middle Earth, especially while her heart belonged to the Dunedain. 

How many times had he tried to dissuade her from such a relationship? How many suitors had he found for her of her own people, that would give her eternal happiness rather than a century or two at most before a lonely end full of despair? 

Still though, she denied his attempts, and the peaceful future it promised. It was likely beyond his reach now, and her future seemed to be tied to that man. 

It was one of the reasons he had suggested that the 'King' go and seek out the young woman that had drawn the attention of the wise. If she was dangerous that he did not want to risk one of his own, and in the darkest parts of his heart perhaps ill would befall Aragorn. If not then perhaps there would be a secondary result. 

He had witnessed the results of her presence on Bilbo Baggins, one who was of pure heart and ambition, as well as the One Ring's power over men of fortitude like Isildur. Could it happen a third time? If the ranger were to be seduced by 'her' would he succumb and betray Arwen's trust? 

If that were to happen his daughter would be devastated, yes, but it would save her in the end. She would leave him, depart Middle Earth for the lands of the Valar, and be saved from a terrible fate. 

_***TotR***_

The gate warden stared through the small window, entranced at the sight of a face he could barely make out through the darkness and rain. She was beautiful, and wealthy by the flash of gold and jewels from around her neck, across her brow, and around her wrists. 

“Well?” 

He blinked, then again and shook his head to clear whatever thoughts muddled it. She had asked him something, but in his captivation, he knew not what it was. “What business do you have here?” 

“The Prancing Pony, I was told I am expecting a message.” 

Nodding, perhaps a bit too quickly, the smaller window was closed to allow for the larger entrance to be opened and admittance given. As the woman walked in, and past him without so much as a glance, he swore she was unclad beneath her cloak and robes. 

_***TotR***_

“I was told someone would be here to greet me, Gandalf the Grey to be precise.” 

The overweight innkeeper frowned, eyes straying up and down over what little he could see of the woman standing before him. “I've not seen Gandalf in... months, I think? Maybe longer?” 

Her sigh of annoyance was obvious, as if this were just one inconvenience too many. “Then I'll take a room for the evening to dry off.” 

Eyes lighting up in understanding the man quickly nodded, “Yes, yes of course! The best we have for such a lovely sight as yourself.” 

Where most would have been grateful, she hardly gave a reaction, merely nodding before reaching into a pocket and dropping a handful of silver coins onto the counter. “I trust this is enough.” 

_***TotR***_

From the corner of the room the cloaked stranger caught sight of his target, a woman in soaking wet cloak, white robes, and, unless his eyes deceived him, not much else. He frowned, such a state was unbecoming and dangerous for anyone to be in, even if she was connected to the Dark Lord. 

Taking a mental inventory of what he little he had on him, and what could be quickly obtained without arousing suspicion, the man planned for their departure early the next day at the latest, one she was properly clothed. 

He would still need to speak with her, however, and would need a suitable distraction before making his departure. Even with the rowdy chatter of the bar her short appearance had turned several heads, and more than a few sets of eyes strayed after her. 

Luckily, a moment later and opportunity struck. One of the drunker individuals at the bar lost his balance, falling back into another and spilling a drink on a third. Chaos erupted as fists began to fly and curses followed. During this it was a simple task for Strider to go unnoticed as he slipped from the room and up the stairs towards his target. 

_***TotR***_

A frown marred the Dunedain’s face as he found the door unlocked and slipped into the room without so much as a sound. For one being pursued by the Nazgul, she should have been more cautious, more alert to her surroundings, and taken more care in her safety. Instead she was sitting on the bed out cloak discarded and now in the white he had seen before, facing out towards the window and the shining moon in the sky. 

Not wanting to scare the poor woman, Aragorn cleared his throat, earning her attention, but more concerningly not any suspicion or fear. A stranger in one’s room should not be viewed so easily as she looked at him now. 

He took a step forward, “I have been told of you, I am a ranger of the north and I am here to…” He had reached out, though looking back he was not entirely sure as to why he had made such a movement. The moment he reached her, a hand was wrapped around his forearm, the grip crushingly strong. Had the man not known better he would have sworn she had the arms of a cave troll rather than a youthful woman. 

Gasping, he uttered the first thing he could think of to try and diffuse the situation, “G-Gandalf!” 

The name had a desired effect, and she released him instantly, though her features hadn’t changed from the annoyance previously marring them. “Perhaps you should have started with that rather than assuming to give me commands.” 

Clutching his sore limb, the man quickly nodded, “Apologies, I wasn’t sure what you had been told. My name is Strider, and I am Chieftain of the Dunedain.” 

“Camellia.” 

He waited for more, but after another few moments it was clear nothing else would be said. “I don’t have much for you to change into that would fit, I will find some tonight though and we will depart early for Imladris.” 

The scowl that appeared had him curious, but before he could inquire a scream filled the air from outside, carried on the wind from all directions. Her head snapping towards the window as she stood and moved towards it. Hesitantly he walked forward as well, perhaps to ease any discomfort or fear she would undoubtedly be feeling. 

“Ringwraiths.” He explained to the silence, “They were once great kings of men, until the dark lord gave them each one of the Nine Rings. It corrupted them, twisted them until they became no more than shadows of their former selves, slaves to _his_ will. They are neither living nor dead, and his purpose is theirs, to find the One Ring and reclaim his power.” 

Her hand was flat against the window, and for a moment he thought she might attempt to open and leap out, but to what end he did not know. “You need not fear them, not tonight at least. It would avail them naught to try and storm the town.” 

But she did not fear them at all. It was not terror or dread, but excitement and _lust_ that caused her blood to boil and a craving to form which wet both sets of lips. He was right though, they were not in the town and she did not wish for them to be regardless. Such a small _insignificant_ place that had ended up being far more dull than she had heard. 

The men were drunks, losers who ignored their families to go and drown their believed sorrows in dirty taverns and muddy streets. There was one, at least, who might be more than he appeared, the man who had snuck into her room. 

Turning, she allowed one part of her robe to slip down her shoulder. “Then I suppose we are stuck here tonight hm? Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” 

_***TotR***_

He had been a bit too slow, too kind and caring for her taste, but having a warm mouth upon her wet skin was still something she had longed for. Still, he was treating her like a precious gift, like glass that would break should he so much as grip her. 

It was maddening, and finally the woman grabbed his own clothing and pulled just a tad harder, as if to get her point across that the 'slow and methodical' only went so far to keep her interest. 

The message had been received, and his touch roughened as they on the bed only moments later. Rather than wait she tore her own garments open, freezing him in place as he openly stared at naked flesh. 

“Touch, taste, or bite but do not just stare.” 

Her soft command seemed to rouse him from his state, and he was on her a moment later, doing exactly as she had instructed, and more. Like a man dying of thirst he devoured every inch of her, and the moment her hand found his erection he moved to free himself of his own clothing, hardly allowing her a glance of his manhood before thrusting inside of her. 

It was hot and hard, pulsating as if his heart was inside of her rather than his own chest. The man's hands went to either side of her body, allowing leverage to continue pushing faster and deeper into her depths, groaning and gasping to her moans as the sound of wet flesh slapping against flesh filled the air. Despite further encouragement he would not pin her down, neither her body nor her arms, and despite her disappointment, Camellia merely allowed him to continue at his own pace. 

He whispered compliments into her ear, how beautiful she was, how wonderful she felt, poetry and other such nonsense. If it had been in any other situation she would have been annoyed and probably left, but at least he was decent in bed so she tolerated his apparent infatuation with her. 

Aragorn came with a groan, thrusting deep inside of her as she felt the burning liquid fill her. Silence replaced what had previously been the sounds of sex, all save for the deep gasps of air that he struggled to fill his lungs with. 

_***TotR***_

The ranger of the north sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tried to come to grip with what had just transpired. Not only had he failed to control his baser instincts, and thus taken advantage of a young, barely clad woman who was fleeing from all sorts of nightmarish horrors and strangers, but had also cheated on Arwen. 

Arwen, the love of his life, his guiding star that didn't just keep him focused, but gave him something to aspire to, something to reach for. Despite his destiny, which everyone who knew about found fit to remind him of as often as they saw him, he could go his entire life without desiring to rule over a vast kingdom. _She_ was the force that pushed him onward when he felt the urge to simply give up. 

Most beautiful elf of their age, intelligent, kind, fierce, and a princess. He was not even a shadow compared to her, and knew that if it were not for his destiny he would have never met her. Even if he had there would be no reason for her to give him so much as a second glance. 

And now he had been with another, broken the unspoken vows that existed between the woman he dreamt of and himself. How could he face her again? How could he face _any_ of them with such a betrayal? 

“What have I done...” he muttered, unaware of the eye roll that such a statement earned from his companion. In her mind it had just been sex, rather unimaginative sex at that. If she had known he would act in such a way she would have gone and found someone else instead. 

“Feeling regret already?” 

His head snapped over to her, eyes immediately lowering to avoid staring at her nude form, as if he hadn't done far worse minutes prior. “No, no it is just that I... I promised myself to another and now...” 

Letting out a sigh, she reached over to grab the cloak that had fallen onto the floor, “And now what? It's not like we are married or anything. Next time you see her just don't tell her about this, simple as that.” 

Aragorn's eyes widened in disbelief, “Just don't tell her?” 

“Exactly, it was just sex after all, we aren't in love in or anything of the sort.” 

For a moment uncertainty, and a bit of hurt, passed across the man's face. Camellia chose to ignore both of these, and the emotions tangled up with them. 

“But I... I couldn't do that, _lie_ to Arwen? She's my everything.” 

“Do you love her?” 

“Yes!” 

“You want to be with her forever?” 

“I do!” 

“Then trust me when I say, _don't_ _tell her_. Women aren't very accepting of the 'I slept with a stranger my love but I swear it didn't mean anything' conversation. Even if she does forgive you I doubt she would ever trust you again.” 

Conflict raged in the man's eyes, “But... what about you?” 

“What _about_ me? I'm certainly not going to spend a day with her and confess I slept with her future husband or whatever you two are and like I said, the two of us _aren't_ in love.” 

_***TotR***_

When Camellia awoke the following morning there was a pile of traveling clothes on the dresser, as well as a note saying that Aragorn would make ready their passage into the wilderness. Eating a small breakfast and changing the woman made her way down, only to catch a glimpse of her guide from a window. 

He had prepared a large travel bag for them, and informed her they would need to travel as far as possible during the daylight hours. “The nine are weaker while the sun shines” he explained as they departed the town, “their sight is limited, and their presence stifled. We must travel as far as we can and then rest at night to avoid their vision. They will likely be tracking us though, so eat well when you can and conserve your strength.” 

_***TotR***_

“So, where is Gandalf?” 

The man slowed a bit in his lead to consider the question. “I am not absolutely certain, but I know he was seeking information in Gondor and among the elves. Afterwards I was heard rumor he was heading for Isengard, to consult with another member of his order.” 

She nodded, “So there are other meddling old men out there with too much time on their hands?” 

This earned a smile and a chuckle from the ranger, “More than you would imagine. Although they tend to mean well despite this.” 

“Is that what awaits at our destination? More immortals giving orders and dictating how others should live their lives?” 

Apparently, this comment caused her guide to finally halt and consider the future. “Lord Elrond is... very wise, and although you should not blindly follow anyone, listening to the advice of others can do no harm.” 

Catching up, and walking past him, she shook her head, “Unless the advice itself is harmful. How many times have you heard of others be led astray or forfeit their happiness and lives due to the 'advice of the wise'?” 

_***TotR***_

Days into their trip and Aragorn opted to lead them to a nearby rise on the landscape. “Weathertop,” he explained” was an ancient watchtower of the northern kingdom of Men. Long since deserted it will give us some vision of the surrounding lands. 

“Will it not also give those who pursue us an easier way to spot our movements?” she inquired, more curious than concerned. 

“Perhaps, but I need to check ahead this evening to ensure that the bridges are secured and we are not wandering into a trap. It will be safer for you to stay here while I am away.” 

Nodding, she looked up at the fallen monument, a feeling of anticipation flooding her chest. 

_***TotR***_


End file.
